


Misguided

by unfoldingbliss



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:56:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2562155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfoldingbliss/pseuds/unfoldingbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy closed his eyes, a defeated, trembling sigh slipping past his lips. He turned his head back towards the wall and dug his fingernails into his knees, “If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.” [While searching for his wife in the future, Vaike comes across Grima's young lieutenant.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Son of a lily-livered griffon,” Vaike cursed under his breath as he rushed through another war-torn hallway, his eyes darting back and forth with feverish resolve. The anguished screeches of dozens of Risen echoed throughout the castle ruins, but his ears couldn’t pick up Robin’s voice and her usual barrage of spells amongst the chaos. Gods, she’d been right there, charging at the undead swarm ready to tear apart that little dragon girl…what could have made her turn away without a single word? Even on the most blood-soaked battlefields, she made it her responsibility to tell him where she was going if they decided to separate. And he readily did the same (though, he found battle less thrilling when his wife wasn’t enjoying the fight alongside him). Still, of all the places he could have lost his wife...

“Hey, Vaike! Is that you?” a friendly voice bellowed from the other side of the hall. Vaike’s tumultuous thoughts fled to the back of his head as he looked up and processed the two looming figures in front of him, shadowed on horseback. A faint smile etched into Vaike's face, taking in the disheveled hair and dirty face. Coupled with the jovial tone (even amidst the mayhem spilling from every corner of the abandoned fortress), Vaike had to admit: even if his most admirable trait was mediocrity, Stahl captured his attention with ease.

“Well, if it isn’t Teach’s old partner in crime!” Vaike exclaimed and dashed towards his fellow Shepherd. As his approach continued, he noticed Stahl’s green armor was caked in blood, and his eyes flickered with a crazed ferocity that sent goose bumps flaring across Vaike’s arms. He was use to such a look on Frederick and Sully, even Chrom at times, but Stahl’s expressions hardly ever bordered on vicious, as though he was itching to kill anything that stood in his path. It would have thrown Vaike off if his focus was primarily centered on the man before him. But his eyes continued to strain in every direction, hoping to see a flash of Robin’s robes, “You hangin’ in there?”

“You could say that,” Stahl nodded, his smiled broadening. He motioned behind him, and Vaike’s eyes caught onto Tharja for the first time, garbed in heavy blue armor and hair sticking to the base of her neck. She glowered from above him, cheeks and lips a windblown red, contrasting sharply with her pale skin. A pair of bruised arms clung to her waist, and a frail, meek body slouched into the whole of her back. Unkempt hair matted with blood tangled against Tharja’s and a weak groan escaped as Tharja shifted her horse’s reigns, “We were able grab this world’s Noire before something really nasty ended up having. We’ve been trying to find Lissa, but she went off with Chrom to find the other children. Have you seen them?”

Vaike cringed and a fresh wave of guilt and anxiety squeezed against his gut. He’d been so concentrated in his efforts to find Robin, he’d forgotten about their initial objective: rescuing the children of this world before Grima’s hooded lieutenant captured and killed them first. What if that’s where Robin had scampered off to? What if she’d seen one of the children and was making her way back to the others?

 _Some hero_ , Vaike scolded himself before scratching the back of his head, letting his axe scrape the ruined marble floor below him, “Can’t say that I have, bud. I’ve been trying to find Robin for a while now. We sepa –”

“You lost Robin?!” Tharja snapped as she lunged forward, eyes narrowing. Her daughter’s dwindling form kept her from acting rashly, but Vaike could see she was none to please with this new information, “How could you be so careless? You may be a dimwitted oaf, but Robin chose you to be her husband – your first priority should always be her safety!”

Stahl winced and tried to console his wife, shifting his head towards Noire and bringing the reigns of his horse close to his chest, “Please, love. I’m sure Robin is fine. She wouldn’t have acted alone if she didn’t think she could handle it. Right, Vaike?"

Vaike was tempted to frown and say no, she very much _would_ act on her own because she was a reckless, compassionate soul that put everyone’s life before her own. She had proven, time after time, she was ready to sacrifice herself for the most meager and unworthy. But to avoid further confrontation, Vaike took a deep breath and slipped on a hearty smile, laughter booming from his throat, “Of course! Robin’s the smartest woman alive. She wouldn’t go at it alone if the odds weren’t 100% in your favor.”

Tharja scowled and appeared as if she was about to retort, but another groan escaped Noire, and Tharja’s immediate attention was redirected. She turned to her husband, her cheeks a shade paler and a flash of fear crossing over her eyes, “Very well; we have more pressing business to attend to. I would have Stahl go with you, but we need the extra protection. The Risen here – Grima and its lieutenant have had years to learn how to control and improve them. I’m not sure I can handle them alone.”

Well, shit. If the Shepherd’s resident witch didn’t think she could take on a fleet of Risen alone, what hope did Vaike have if he met them head-on? He’d been pretty lucky in his search thus far – just a straggler here and there in all the rooms he had scoured. Still, it was unsettling: his axe was starting to crack and grow heavy in his arm, and he only had a few elixirs to keep him on his feet for the next hour or two. Could he make it by himself, when everyone else in their ranks had their own affairs and children to deal with?

“Robin should be nearby,” Stahl’s voice broke into Vaike’s thoughts once more. As Vaike looked up, Stahl unhooked a large axe from his back and swerved it in his direction, coaxing his companion to accept it, “There’s not much left of this castle as is. Just stay safe, okay? And make sure you come back in one piece – I think Robin and Morgan like you better that way.”

“You’re probably right,” Vaike replied, thinking of his son for the first time since this mission. Most of the children were still back in the present, preparing themselves for the oncoming battle with Aversa and her undead generals. Morgan was safe with his friends, awaiting his parents’ return, “Thanks, Stahl. I’ll meet up with you and your lovely dame when I can.”

“I told you to cut it out with those crude pet names!” Tharja lashed out as Vaike scrambled down the hallway. He swerved into another large corridor, the crumbling walls exposing the ruins to the crisp, cool winds outside. Robin wouldn’t be foolish enough to venture off into the night alone – for that, she would have asked for his help. But…wouldn’t she have asked for his help regardless? Just what had been so urgent, so immediately captivating that Robin left without a moment’s hesitation, without one look back or a rushed out goodbye?

 _I hate to admit it,_ Vaike bared his teeth while he ran, trying to keep his steps light to avoid unnecessary combat. The Risen may be undead, but they assuredly weren’t hard of hearing _but what she did almost sounds….stupid._

Before he could really assess his wife’s current shortcoming, Vaike’s ears picked up the sound of glass shattering from within the room opposite of him. It was soon followed by a slur of hot, hushed curses that could rival Vaike on his most colorful days. And even if he wasn’t close enough to really tell, the voice felt strained, as if mounds of stress were toppling over its body’s shoulders. Was that one of the children they’d been sent to protect? The voice sounded young enough, and only Noire and Kjelle had been found…

 _Well, hell Vaike – you can’t just leave some kid behind!_ Vaike stilled himself before approaching the room, tempted to bust through the doors and proudly belt out his intention of rescuing the defenseless child. If Robin were hear, she’d attest that it might be a trap – that they had to be cautious lest they get captured to. And as much as he wanted to play the hero, he didn’t want to let Robin down (even if she he had let _him_ down, going off on her own and acting like he would have a year or so ago…)

When he was close enough to the door, Vaike lunged his head forward and pressed his ear to the battered door. Inside, he could hear feet shuffle back and forth, accompanied by a flurry of mumbled, panicked words. Vaike squished his brows together, concentrating on making out the rushed sentences.

“ _I can’t believe this! Who are those people? Did they just fall out of the fucking sky?”_ the voice seethed. Vaike was taken aback – the voice sounded so young, hardly scratching the surface of adulthood. But why were they angry? If they were one of the children Vaike and the others were supposed to protect, wouldn’t they be grateful for their help? “ _This makes no sense! I thought – didn’t she kill them? How are they back…how?!_ ”

Vaike felt an inkling of familiarity roll over his shoulders while something smashed against a wall and crumbled onto the floor. That voice…it was laced with rage and menace, but he _had_ heard it before. He heard it every day as he and Robin exited their tent and walked off towards the eating quarters, chirping on about some new strategy he’d cooked up the night before. And Vaike had heard it not too long ago, a pleasant farewell rolling off his tongue as Vaike ruffled his hair.

Which begged the question: what had turned his kind, gentle Morgan into the growling boy flailing on the other side of the door?

Vaike’s heart squeezed, his pulse quickening. Had this Morgan been what separated his wife from him? Had she thought he was their own son, following them against their wishes?  

 _Only one way to find out_ , Vaike took a deep breath, the bare skin on his arms and shoulders tingling in nervous anticipation. He’d often boast how, out of all the parents that had unwittingly found their children across their travels, he and Robin had been the most welcoming amongst them. Hell, Vaike almost cried – he had a son! _Would_ have a son with the woman of his dreams! Why wouldn’t he heap affection onto his darling, scrawny child?

But then again, their Morgan had been just as excited and affectionate towards his parents upon their first meeting. He loved his parents, and they loved him in return. This Morgan…

Was their any love left in his heart?

After he strapped his axe onto his back, Vaike’s hand hovered above the doorknob, a rigid foreboding wafting over his body. There was a high possibility that this meeting wasn’t going to be one of rainbows and sunshine. The boy inside was abrasive and fuming – what would stop him from lashing out at the first person that dared to visit him? He was his father, but…in this world, did he even know who that was?

A moan escaped the boy on the other side, the pitter-patter of his frantic steps ceasing. Another beat passed and a loud, stifling cry followed after.

And in that instant, Vaike understood why Robin had left him without a single hesitation.

Being careful not to draw too much sound, Vaike turned the knob and pushed the door open. The rusted hinges creaked, but it didn't seem to alert the boy inside, too focused on and ashamed of his apparent failures. Vaike's heart squeezed again, and his arms ached to shove the boy into a tight embrace. But even he understood how reckless an act that would be, and opted for a safer course of action. Taking a few small steps forward, he looked around the room, noting the shattered clay pots and glass vases. Several lit candles stood across a dusty nightstand, illuminating the broken stone walls and a single, stained feather mattress. He...he wasn't _living_ here, was he?

Reluctantly, he turned his attention to the boy kneeling at the center, the whole of his back facing him. Gloved hands pulled at his greasy blonde hair, his robes too large and soiled at the shoulders. He rocked back and forth on his heels and continued to sob, incomprehensible words falling out of his mouth at a hysteric pace.

Well, it wasn't like Vaike could wait for the situation to get any better. If he left now, inches away from the person Robin had sought....it would be cowardly - nearly unforgiveable. And, after all, Morgan was his son, too.

Vaike tilted his body forward, hand stretched out towards the boy on the floor, "Hey, uh, kiddo...you okay there?"

The boy stiffened and his sobs ceased, an immediate tension thickening between them. His head swerved to the side, a large, bloodshot eye peeking out from beneath his bangs. Not a hint of recognition surfaced from the pool of dark gray, the shade the very same as his mother’s. Vaike shuddered underneath his bewildered gaze, every nerve beneath his skin begging to scoop the boy up and search for the nearest healer in their ranks. If only he knew how to explain himself as efficiently as Robin could…

The boy closed his eyes, a defeated, trembling sigh slipping past his lips. He turned his head back towards the wall and dug his fingernails into his knees, “If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

Vaike’s heart lurched at the suggestion. He took a step back, eyes narrowing. This Morgan thought Vaike was going to kill him…and he was just going to let it happen, without a single spell or blade thrown in his direction? Just – where was the fight in this kid? His Morgan would never back down, would never admit to such a solemn defeat!

Given the circumstance – that this Morgan obviously didn’t recognize him and he was the other children’s enemy in this timeline – Vaike shouldn’t have been upset. His blood shouldn’t have broiled, and his knuckles shouldn’t have paled as his hold on his axe firmed. But, _dammit_! Like hell he was going to let any son of his accept death so readily – at least not without exhausting every bone and muscle in his body first!

So, forgetting all the disciplinary techniques Frederick taught him as a Shepherd-in-training, Vaike stomped forward and fastened his fingers onto the boy’s robes, pulling him up to his feet. The boy gasped as Vaike whirled him around and clutched his shoulders, his voice hot and straining against his throat, “ _Kill_ you? Kid, why would I wanna kill something as pathetic and weak-looking as you? You’re hardly worth my time!”

Fear flashed across the boy’s eyes, his previous acceptance of death vanishing from every corner of his face. As he processed Vaike’s words however, he tried slithering out of Vaike’s grasp, his face twisting into an ugly scowl. At least he could recover from shame at the same impeccable speeds as his father, “How dare you! I’m neither weak nor pathetic! I’m one of Master Grima’s best lieutenants and I swear if you don’t let me down I’ll – “

“You’ll what?” Vaike cut him off, a smirk plastering itself onto his lips, “I don’t see a tome or a weapon on ya, and those scrawny little hands can’t do a thing to my body – I mean, c’mon, just look at my arms! Talk about perfection, amirite?”

The boy faltered, his face morphing from enraged to perplexed. His eyebrows knitted together and color returned to his face, making himself look a little bit more like the boy Vaike knew and loved, “Why are you – are you mocking me? This isn’t some tavern brawl, you buffoon! My mot – Master Grima will wipe the floor with you and your Prince as she has before!"

"Huh, I didn't see a Master Grima around these parts," Vaike continued to play up the bemused arrogance. He carelessly threw one hand into the hair and closed his eyes, waiting for the boy to further struggle against his arm. When he did, Vaike strengthened his hold and moved his fingers to the front of his robes, disgusted by how frayed and dirty the cloth felt beneath his fingertips, "What she look like again? Long brown hair always up in some braid or ponytail? Dark gray eyes that can burn a man alive if she were angry enough? Tall and slim?  _Great_ legs? That ringing any bells in that tiny little head of yours?"

"What? How could you - oh, right," Morgan nodded, his body beginning to relax underneath Vaike's touch, "She was your friend before all of this, right? Before she and Master Grima became one? Is that why all of you are here - to stop her?"

Vaike couldn’t help but smile and chuckle at Morgan’s change in tone, his insatiable curiosity getting the best of him. Perhaps this boy was much more like his than he previously envisioned, “Cooperatin’ all of a sudden, huh? You cooking up a way to storm past me and get out of here?”

He didn’t wait for Morgan’s response.  Vaike released his hold on Morgan's robes, his little feet planting themselves onto the floor. Vaike turned his attention away from the boy and looked around the room once more, cringing as he picked up the scent of sweat and day-old wax, “Not like you could anyway, unless ya got a tome in that splintered nightstand…or beneath that dirty mattress. Sheesh – kid, I gotta ask: you don’t live here, do you?”

From the corner of his eye, Vaike noticed Morgan flush and duck his head in-between his shoulders. With every second that past, the proud and vile lieutenant of Grima’s army continued to morph into the boy Vaike cherished beyond life itself. If only he could find his mother and whisk him away somewhere safe – maybe a nearby village would take him in, give him clean water to soak in and a hot bowl of stew to slurp down. Perhaps no one really knew his identity in this world – he had had his hood on earlier, when they faced him in their initial confrontation.

There had to be something Vaike could do for this boy. This boy who wasn’t and was his son, who continued to look up at him as any child would a stranger. His gaze held both intrigue and reserve, his body on the edge of fight or flight. If only he could tell him who he was, that he didn’t have to be frightened of his own father…

“I…I have for a time,” Morgan’s broken, somber voice ripped Vaike out of his thoughts. He turned his full attention to the boy, his face obscured by long, blonde bangs, “Grima told me it would be temporary. I was to stay until I trapped some of hero’s children. She knew of their quest for the remaining emblem’s stones, and sought to capture them before they reached Lucina. But it’s taken more time than she anticipated and I…had to make due with what was already here.”

Vaike said nothing, his throat too tight with rage to let loose a growl. Perhaps that was why Morgan had appeared so defeated before: he’d been all but abandoned by the “mother” he was so dutifully loyal to. Fending for himself in this ruined castle that offered so little protection from the fierce winds and chilly nights. To imagine that his Robin could become like the monster that enslaved this world…

His blood ran cold, and his heart felt as if it sunk deep into the crevasses of his chest.

Morgan shifted his feet at the silence, tilting his head just enough so Vaike could catch the mild suspicion flashing across his eyes, “Why do you care, anyhow? I’m the enemy – my mother betrayed you and I’m her bastard son. She most likely –”

“You’re not a bastard,” Vaike interrupted him, his shoulders shuddering at the thought. This Grima not only denied her son the knowledge of his father, she made it sound like Vaike and Robin's marriage was some romp in the hay. And like hell he was going to let any son of his think _that_ , “Your mother was married before she was consumed by Grima. She had a husband that loved her, and had he met you…he would have loved you as well! I know it!”

“You knew who my father was?” Morgan’s eyes widened, his small hands curling into excited fists that shot up to his chest, “I – I can’t believe it! Grima always told me my father was just some common hick my mother sullied herself with before they fused together, but I hoped…I guess I just hoped for something more.”

“Of course you would,” Vaike’s face softened, the anger inside of him ebbing away. The sight of this child, dazed and thrilled at the prospect of having a real father, someone his mother adored…it soothed him, somehow. Made him feel better about inevitably leaving the boy behind in this solemn world.

But not by much.

He was surprised however, when Morgan took a hold of his arm and pulled him towards him, the wonder in his eyes never waning, "Could you possibly tell me who he was? Who he was in the army, why my mother chose him?"

Vaike blinked and frowned, averting his stare from Morgan to the stained bedspread to the left of them. He couldn't just deny the kid outright - but would it be safe if he knew? What would this Grima do to Morgan if she discovered that, instead of taking down the enemy, he'd chatted them up? He didn't know how the dragon would react, but from what he had gathered from their world and this one, he knew it had a temper - one that wasn't easily dissuaded. And Vaike was willing to bet a hefty sum of gold that it mattered little if the source of its wrath was a relative of its host.

"Um...I'm not sure if that's a good idea, kid," Vaike started, wincing as the boy's expression shifted to disappointment, "It's not that I don't want to tell you! It's just that...I don't know, it could get you in trouble with this Master Grima, and I'd hate it if something happened to you because of my stupid mouth."

"I wouldn't tell my master - I wouldn't tell anyone!" Morgan pleaded, tightening his hold on Vaike's arms. Even though his fingers were thin and small, his grip was strong and almost stung the muscles beneath Vaike's skin. Had the situation been different, Vaike would have been impressed and insisted the boy start training with an axe, "Please, I just want to know who he is - that my mother was happy with him!"

 _That she was happy with him?_ Vaike took extra pause at those words, his attention solely on the boy before him. What did he think Robin's life was like before Grima? Had he thought her miserable, a slave to Chrom's every whim? So disillusioned with her lot in life, she chose a much more dangerous, drastic course for the world itself?

In was in that moment, looking at a boy so little and so much like the son he knew, Vaike swore: he'd do everything in his power to make sure the Morgan of his world would never know such desperation. Would never know what it's like to grow up without a loving mother and father.

He only wished he could do the same for the Morgan before him now.

Still, he plastered on his biggest smile and jumped from Morgan's grasp, throwing his arms as far as they could reach so that the whole of his chest was visible, "Hell yeah, she was happy with him! Ain't no one else alive that could please your mother like your old man did! He'd always toss into the air and give her these big kisses and she'd laugh like some pretty little angel. When she was down and tired, he'd pick a hundred wildflowers and give her the best back rubs imaginable! And of course, she'd do the same for him - made him soup when he was sick, read to him when he had trouble sleeping..."

Vaike closed his eyes as his mind wandered and the memories engulfed his thoughts. Robin smiling as she bit into a piece of meat he cooked; crying as they attended Emmeryn's funeral mass and huddling close to his form; laughing as they ran up the steps of the capital's castle moments after their engagement; dancing alongside him at their wedding...

"She was his everything," he breathed out, opening his eyes.

When he looked down, Morgan's mouth was agape, taking in Vaike's expression and body language. His hands combed through his blonde hair and directed his gaze towards his exposed forearm, his skin just a shade lighter than Vaike's own.

His voice came out as a whisper, as though he could hardly believe what was happening himself, "...Father."

The words rang clear, cutting through every defense Vaike possessed. Not like there was much there to begin with, especially when it came to his family. Unshed tears glossed over his eyes, blurring his vision, "Damn - your mother still gets me to spill, even when she isn't here!"

Morgan gasped at the affirmation. A moment more passed and his face scrunched up, tears of his own beginning to roll off his gaunt cheeks and onto the floor, "You're my - you're my father!"

While Vaike tried to respond, Morgan shoved his face into Vaike's chest and wrapped his scrawny arms around his waist. Vaike felt his heart flop at the contact, the whole of his body warming at the tight grip. Maybe this Morgan had it in him to be an axe wielder...someday.

"Aww, you're gonna make me cry, kid," Vaike finally spoke and returned Morgan's hug. Tears clung to his eyelashes, a few slipping past his nose and hitting the top of Morgan's head. Even if he couldn't do anything for this Morgan...if it was too late for him, maybe this could be enough.

Before Morgan could pull away and ask him something else however, a loud clash was heard from the hall, the dying whimpers of a Risen soldier following afterwards. Vaike whipped around and grabbed a hold of the axe strapped to his back, prepared to protect his son (though, if he thought about it, Risen were probably of little threat to this particular son of his).

"Vaike! Are you over here?" his heart leapt at the voice, immediately recognizable despite its frank weariness. He felt Morgan stiffen beside him and assumed he was familiar with the voice as well. Although, given his reaction, he wasn't sure he wanted to discover why.

"I'll be right back," Vaike assured Morgan as he jumped towards the door and rushed out the hall. Hardly a second had passed when he heard a gasp and the quick shuffle of feet against the broken stone floor. As he tried to turn, a pair of arms locked him in an embrace and a cool face pressed itself to his chest. The long brown hair may have been matted and the robes were smudged with dirt and blood, but Vaike smiled regardless.

"Hey there, baby doll. Been looking for you," Vaike kissed the top of her head and nuzzled his nose against her hair. It smelled faintly of rosemary, putting him at ease, "Where'd you run off to?"

Robin tilted her head upwards. Dark rings circled her bloodshot eyes, and her skin appeared ashen against her pale, chapped lips. It seemed that she might've had a harder time than Vaike imagined, "I - I thought I saw Morgan! I think he might be Grima's lieutenant in this world. When his hood fell off, his hair was the same as yours. I tried chasing after him, but I got stuck fighting a horde of Risen alongside this world's Cynthia. And then I heard from Stahl you ran off to find...me..."

As Robin's voice faded away, Vaike noticed her gaze redirect to the opened door. He followed her line of vision until he caught sight of Morgan standing a few feet away from the doorway. His face was blank and his hands were scrunching up the bottom of his robes, looking onto his cross-dimensional parents with mild wonderment.

When Morgan met Robin's stare, he glued his eyes to his muddy boots, and said, "It's dangerous here, Master Grima. You should leave."

Vaike grinned and looked back to his wife, squeezing her hard against his chest before pulling away, "I'll give you two some time to talk before we leave."

Robin nodded and walked towards Morgan, one hand stretched out, "I...I think you have the wrong person."

Vaike turned away before seeing the rest, opting to walk off towards the end of the hall and provide protection for his wife and child. While he wasn't sure he could do much in convincing Morgan of Grima's malice, perhaps Robin was more capable than he. Hell, she was supposed to be its destined host! If anyone could talk their son out of following its footsteps, it was most certainly his wife.

"How'd it go?" he asked when she joined him, slipping her hand into his. He felt little need to turn around and see if Morgan was still there. Robin would persuade him to leave, if only to move past this castle of destitution and squalor.

"It...went well enough," Robin replied as she led him down the hall and towards the others, "He says he likes you, by the way."

"Really now?" Vaike tightened his hold on her hand, hoping that he didn't tear up, "Well, I hope he knows I like him, too."

She laughed and jumped up to kiss his cheek, one of her frayed braids swatting him in the face, "I'm sure he does, tough guy."

Vaike couldn't help it; the tears were well past his cheeks by the time they reached the castle exit, wishing there had been something else they could do for their poor, misguided boy. And when he looked to Robin, he wasn't surprised to see tears trickle off her chin and onto her robes.

They had to leave. Naga was calling, and there was nothing neither of them could do.

"Yeah," Vaike whispered, "I'm sure he does."


	2. Chapter 2

When Vaike woke up, his arms were empty.

He frowned as his fingers dug circles into the feathered mattress. The cool sheets indicated his wife had left some time ago, and the fledgling dawn peeking out from the horizon meant she had departed in the dark.

Vaike grunted, curling his hands around the thin sheets until they were tight fists. He really didn’t want to get up, not with the night he’d had. His head ached, his legs were stiff, and his heart drooped heavily against his ribs, twisting and squirming with every breath he took. It would be easy to pretend Robin had grown restless and decided to roam the camp or help out with the night watch.

But Robin was hardly that predictable, and after last night, he doubted she'd fall so effortlessly back into the camp’s daily routines.

Another grunt escaped Vaike before he pulled himself from out of the blankets. Goosebumps pricked at his exposed back and shoulders, the night air cooler than he anticipated. He usually wasn’t one for shirts (and with a body like his, why would he be), but the thought of running into Maribelle or Frederick and listening to their inevitable lectures on proper morning attire didn’t sound all too appealing. Any other night, he would play along and swipe a few jabs at their own gaudy clothes.

Tonight however, as the scent of burnt wax clung to his skin and the image of Morgan’s sobbing, dirty face continued to flash across his eyes, Vaike wasn’t in the mood for such banter. Probably couldn’t fake it if he tried.

He shuffled off the bed and walked over to the large sack he kept most of his possessions in. Very little of the sack was dedicated to clothing: a few stray boots, a spare loincloth and a pair of loose breeches made up the majority of his daily outfits. A little more digging around and Vaike found the black sweater Sully gifted him for his last birthday. It was thick and a little snug in the arms, but there wasn’t much else he could wear other than the outfit Robin had brought him from the Outrealms. And there were too many buttons and zippers he’d have to fuss with – could take him hours before he was outside of the tent in that (though, if he wasn’t on a time crunch, he might consider it – Robin found him  _particularly_ dashing in that ensemble).

After he slipped on the sweater and his other pair of breeches, Vaike exited the tent and surveyed the camp from a distance. His eyes caught onto Yarne and Severa walking along the outskirts of the camp, their backs turned to him. On the hill to the left of the camp, Owain and Cynthia were nestled against each other, looking out onto the flat, grassy plains. Either pair might know where Robin had scampered off to, but there would be little reason for Robin to venture out onto the plains alone. And he suspected that she’d be stopped by just about anyone if that had been her plan all along. As much as Vaike hated to admit it, she was still Grima’s intended vassal – everyone in the camp save for Robin’s closest confidants remained wary of her and the harm she could unintentionally create.

Vaike turned his attention to the right of the camp, where a wide stream glistened in the fading moonlight. Chrom always insisted they make camp near a readily available water source; easier to cook and clean and the whatnot. And, after a strenuous day of training and preparation, Robin was fond of walking alongside the stream or lake they were camped near. She’d often ask for Vaike to accompany her, and they’d talk about food or gossip about their friends. Sometimes they wouldn’t talk at all.

If Robin was looking for a distraction, a place to sit still and  _be_ , the stream was Vaike’s safest bet.

His steps were soft and quiet as he moved through the camp, doing his best to not rouse any of the others from their slumber. While Vaike and Robin had had the most difficult situation – leaving their child behind without friend or parent to care for him – the other parents had been just as reluctant to leave their children in such a desolate world. Tharja and Stahl had been particularly unwilling to give Noire over to her friends; the witch all but threatened cross-dimensional bodily harm if they didn’t keep Noire safe and healthy.

When he reached the foot of the stream, he turned his head away from the plains to the west and towards the small forest in the east. He didn't think Robin would venture too far into past the forest's entrance. Maybe if the stream pooled into a pond...Robin could be sitting alongside its shore by now, watching the waves drift lazily up the damp sand and grazing the tips of her bare toes. She liked to take off her boots whenever she could, after all. Said it made her feel grounded, like she was a part of the earth. 

"She's gone that way, in case you wanted some confirmation."

Vaike blinked and swerved his head to the side, though there was hardly much need to. The overbearing monotone, the hint of condescension - Tharja's voice was truly one of a kind. And though the sun had yet to reach the horizon, Vaike could make out her bored, vacant expression just as easily as he could on the brightest of days.

"What are you doing out here, Tharja?" Vaike asked as he stood at his full height, unable to control the way his nose wrinkled when they met each other's stares. Tharja didn't make it much of a secret that she disliked him, scoffing at any and all opinions he had, and practically gagging any time he was in the same vicinity as Robin. Vaike knew she had thought little of him before, but once he and Robin married, well...

It was like being haunted. 

"I couldn't sleep," Tharja admitted, taking a step closer to the stream, her bare feet curling around the damp grass at its edge. Vaike noticed she was wearing one of Stahl's older practice shirts - it sagged on her shoulders and grazed the tops of her knees. He could forget how tiny she was compared to the rest of their camp, given her terribly frightening magical abilities, "Stahl was snoring and I thought I could get some fresh air before brewing a silencing draught. I saw Robin go that way as I was leaving my tent, but I didn't follow."

"Good thing you didn't," Vaike replied, "I doubt she wants any of your attention right now."

Tharja narrowed her eyes, the corners of her lips starting to curve into a sneer, "Stahl and I went through the same thing as you two did, imbecile. I would not disturb her while she grieves over her child. We may have escaped that hellhole, but we'll probably never know what happened to the children we left behind."

Vaike didn't necessarily respond to the venom dripping from her voice, but he did feel a stab of guilt wedge into his ribs. Tharja was right - she and Stahl had left behind a very wounded Noire. Chrom had provided the children with as much elixirs as he could, but Noire needed more than that. She needed rest, and that was something she could not be afforded with Grima and its Risen biting at their heels. 

And he and Robin...they'd left Morgan all on his own. 

"I'm...I'm sorry, Tharja," Vaike said, the words sounding all too foreign against his tongue. He may not like Tharja, he may think Stahl deserved ten times more than a witch who sought chaos and demise, but at the very least, she cared about her family. Vaike had to respect that, "I sometimes forget -”

"Robin isn't my most important person anymore?" Tharja finished his sentence, the slightest hint of a genuine smile brightening her face, "I still think she deserves much more than an ugly louse like you, but you do make her happy, however perplexing I find that to be. But even if that wasn't the case, Stahl is the man I intend to be with for the rest of my life, and I'll take care of my daughter just as any mother would. You have no reason to fear me, Vaike."

"No reason to fear you?" Vaike cocked a brow, a wide smirk plastering itself onto his face, "I liked the rest of your little speech, but the Teach knows when he's being lied to."

"Oh, do you?" Tharja challenged as she crossed her arms, her eyes sparkling in the dying moonlight, "Maybe we'll have to test that little theory of yours soon."

"Ha, yeah. Maybe," Vaike agreed and turned back towards the forest. He waved one hand into the air, indicating his departure, "But right now, I gotta see what Robin's up to. Don't want her sulking by a lake all day. At least not without me!"

"Very well," Tharja replied, "I wish you good luck."

"See ya!"

He heard her depart as he continued to walk away, probably off to her tent to watch Stahl sleep like the romantic creep she was. Though, to be fair, Stahl probably thought it was cute. 

 _What a sap_ , Vaike chuckled to himself, digging his fingers into the waistline of his pants. The air was a little cooler than expected, but it was nothing that required further clothing. Besides, he didn't want to go back to the tent without Robin. 

Vaike followed the stream into the forest, his pace brisk. His eyes skimmed over the large, surrounding trees, and his mind barely registered all the plant life cropping out on either side of the water. Had he been with Robin, she would've been fascinated by each new flower and plant her eyes took in. And if she felt so inclined, she would pick her favorite and press it into one of her older tactical notebooks. Vaike could almost picture her brilliant, smiling face beside him, gently pressing her new treasure underneath her nose. 

It could be awhile until he saw that kind of smile on his wife again. Not after last night...

It wasn't long before he reached a clearing where the stream widened, filling into a large pond no more than a hundred meters away. And, as he had guessed, Robin was sitting with her back turned to him, her feet bare and a purple shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Vaike let out a small sigh of relief before taking off his boots, and soon dragged his feet against the chilled dirt. 

Robin heard his approach, her head lifting a little during his initial steps. He didn't wait for her to turn to and possibly whip out her spell book - the last thing he needed was a bolt of lightning to the head. His voice soon filled the clearing, though he was surprised by how strained it felt against his throat, "You know, you could've woke me up. Not that any wife of mine  _needs_  help with stray Risen, but hey. A guy can worry."

He could hear her chuckle as he closed in on her, the sound both tired and giddy. She didn't reply until he was standing above her, a teasing glimmer dancing across her eyes, "Maybe I just wanted to see if you could find me. And you looked really cute in your sleep tonight - almost felt like a crime to try and wake you."

"Oh? Testing the Ol' Teach?" Vaike asked as he plopped down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He pressed a quick kiss into her cheek, and the giggle that soon escaped her warmed the depths of his chest, "Good to know I passed with flying colors."

"You sure did," she replied while leaning into his touch, nestling her head against the base of his collarbone. She took a deep breath and snaked one hand up his chest, scrunching his sweater in-between her thin fingers. Vaike soon wrapped his other arm around her waist and kissed the top of her head, unsure if he should reply.

Because, despite his intentions on seeking Robin out - comforting her, making sure she was alright and safe and free of any nightmares - he had questions of his own. Questions that the two of them needed to answer together, along with questions he wasn't sure he  _wanted_  answered. One in particular kept nibbling at the back of his head, born out of morbid curiosity. When the Morgan of that future past had first looked upon him, there had been nothing. No recognition, no familiarity - Vaike had been no different than a stranger to him. Confusion, even fear had been prevalent in Morgan's sunken grey eyes, but had Vaike not unveiled who he really was...

"Do you think he's okay?" Robin asked, her voice laced with concern. She tilted her head up, chin digging into Vaike's thick shoulder. Their eyes soon locked, and Vaike was caught off-guard by the stray tear streaking her cheek, "That he's safe, and sleeping well? I gave him all the money I had and a few elixirs, but...will it be enough? I...I don't want him to get in trouble with Grima, if he decided to return to her..."

Vaike wanted to reassure her, to pull her in as close as possible and whisper that everything would be well. That Morgan would find a village to look after him and use the money on a place to stay and good food to eat. Their Morgan would do that, undoubtedly.

But neither Vaike nor Robin knew much of the Morgan they had left behind. He had been manipulated and abused (that much was obvious), but could he really break away from the monster masquerading as his mother?  Could he really change after one meeting with a father who wasn't really his, with a mother who was such a sharp contrast to everything he had known of her before?

Vaike shuddered against his wife, his eyes beginning to water over. There was no easy answer, no easy fix for the thoughts lingering in both of their heads. 

After another deep breath, Vaike closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers against Robin's thick robes. He briefly caught the scent of Robin's daytime perfume, a mix of lilies and passion fruit, and it relaxed him. Eased him into an answer that was not necessarily comforting, but the only honest one he could provide, "I don't know, Robin. I have no idea what that Morgan is gonna do. If he runs away, and Grima finds him...that could mean serious trouble. Same if he goes back. Grima...that monster could kill him at any time it pleases. And I - shit, I'm sorry, Robin. I don't know what else to say. That kid's on his own and I feel sick just thinking of all the horrible ends he can meet."

A few tears slipped past Vaike's cheeks, unwilling suppress this vulnerability. Perhaps, even a month ago, Vaike might have stifled them, if only to prove to himself how strong and resistant he was to the heartbreak surrounding his life. But, as he felt Robin's shoulders shake against his chest, her muffled sobs drenching his sweater, Vaike knew that if he didn't cry alongside his wife and grieve over all the dreadful possibilities....it wouldn't make him any more of a man. It would just make him an asshole. 

Robin looked up again soon after, her bloodshot eyes fixed on Vaike's damp sweater. She bit at her lip, her eyebrows wedged together. Her cheeks were flushed pink despite the early morning chill, and her forehead crinkled as she spoke once more. This time, her voice was barely above a whisper, as if she was afraid of the trees listening in on their conversation, "Vaike...that Morgan. He told me he didn't know who you were."

Vaike's heart jumped into his throat, and his arms numbed. He had already known that, but to hear Robin confirm it was something else entirely. For his own son to not know who he was, who he had  _been_. It terrified him.

But still, he replied to Robin as steadily as he could, a single tear rolling down his face, "Yeah....yeah, that's right. He had no idea who I was until I almost outright told him."

Robin stiffened in his arms, and he felt her fingers dig into the thick fabric of his breeches. Her face dipped further away from him, but the slight whimper in-between her breaths betrayed her. And suddenly, Vaike knew she had come to the same realization he had. 

"Robin," Vaike said as he pulled her a little bit closer, coaxing her to look up at him, "there is no way in hell you can blame yourself for anything that filthy monster did."

She struggled against him, leaning back and trying her best to gather distance between them. It was as if she couldn't bear to be near him, as if sitting in his lap and meeting his eyes had the power to kill him, "There's still no excuse for it. I...in that future, Grima consumed me, and I...they..."

Another whimper escaped her, and Vaike's heart squirmed at the sound. He didn't like seeing her like this, broken up about all the countless futures and possibilities that could await them. Or, in Vaike's case, could disappear.

"You don't know if it was Grima who killed me there, Robin," Vaike replied, "Maybe I died in battle, before Grima took you. Maybe it was Validar or -"

"No, I  _know_  it was them," Robin objected, her voice carrying more weight than before, "I know what they're like, what they want to do all the people I love. And you...I love you the most, Vaike! And they know that -  _seen_  that! Grima wouldn't pass on such an opportunity. I...I know what they're capable of."

Robin paused and met Vaike's gaze, an endless stream of tears streaking her face and dripping off her chin. She looked both frail and resolute, both afraid and assured as she continued, "They'd be delighted to watch someone who loved me wither and perish before their eyes, to see all their hopes disappear. By the gods, they took my son and used him!  _Used_  him against all my friends and their children! What would stop them from killing you? From erasing you from Morgan's life? Grima wants to take everything from me and in that life, I -"

"You didn't let it do anything, Robin," Vaike interrupted, grabbing onto one of her hands and pushing it into his chest, "Grima is a monster. A really fucking  _ugly_  and evil monster that does whatever it can to make your life a living hell. Its only goal is to have you and make you its puppet. I'm sure, in whatever life you had in that time...that you did everything you possibly could before Grima took over. I'm sure - I  _know_  you fought so hard to keep everyone safe, to keep all of us away from that piece of crap that calls itself a god. You can't blame yourself Robin...it's another time, another world."

When she remained silent, her stare directed to the hand still sitting on his chest, Vaike took a deep, shuddering breath and continued, "How do you think I feel about all of this, Robin?"

Robin glanced up, a hint of curiosity flickering across her cool, gray eyes, "How you feel?"

"About you being taken over by Grima...how do you think that makes me feel?" Vaike repeated while his chest tightened, making it harder to speak, "I wasn't able to protect you in that world - I wasn't strong enough to save you. In that world...I feel like I let it happen."

His wife's stare widened and she panicked underneath him, her free hand reaching out to cup his face. Before she could speak however, Vaike took her hand and placed it on his cheek, reveling in the way it cooled and soothed his warm, chapped skin. What he would give to stay like this for a day, a week, a year...to sit beside a pond and feel Robin against him, his legs wrapped around hers, her hand in his. 

But he wouldn't give up his future. And he wouldn't give up his son. 

"I guess..." Robin started, doing her best to smile as more tears continued to fall off her face, "I guess we both weren't strong enough. I want to save you, you want to save me... but we weren't enough to even save ourselves."

Vaike returned her fragmented smile, leaning in to kiss the top of her forehead. Her skin tasted like salt and felt damp, but he didn't mind. Her even accepting the gesture - accepting his embrace and his kiss - would always be enough, "It means we gotta work harder than ever now. Because we ain't just protecting each other anymore. There's a kid that needs saving, too."

Robin nodded, a faint chuckle escaping her, "You're right."

And when Vaike leaned back, his wife's eyes were steady, all the tears wiped clean from her face, "I'll be the wife you need, Vaike. I promise."

"And I'm gonna be the husband you deserve," Vaike replied as he stood up, bringing Robin along with him. Morning was upon them now, birds chirping and trees rustling from every direction. Vaike wouldn't mind staying awhile longer, let Robin compose herself as they strolled along the pond, but...

"You think Morgan's up?" Robin asked, taking Vaike by the arm. She led them off the firm sand and onto the path Vaike had followed, gathering their boots and hoisting them up on her shoulder, "I was hoping to surprise him with that cornbread he likes for breakfast."

"Probably," Vaike shrugged, doing his best to emulate her mood. There was a sudden spring in her step, and he wondered if the change in subject was meant to distract him from all the thoughts continuing to loom around in his head, "Little man has always been an early riser....remember the last time he tried to surprise  _us_  in the morning?"

Robin's ears tinged pink, but her grin still widened and a giggle soon escaped her throat, "Don't remind me! It's a miracle he even bought that whole nightmare excuse."

"Or maybe he was just playing dumb," Vaike replied, taking Robin's response as a good sign. Maybe if she was around Morgan and the others, she wouldn't have much time to think either. "You never know...he could turn out like his old man after all."

"You mean hiding behind bushes and watching his friends bathe?" Robin asked, her voice a touch heavier, "Not sure if that's the ideal son I'm hoping for."

Vaike sputtered, but said nothing to defend himself. She was right - and always would be, "You're never letting that go, huh?"

"Nope!" Robin exclaimed, her eyes shining, "As if!"

And perhaps, in a few hours, it would feel like they had let that world and its future go all too easily. That, alone, they would sit up and stare out into the darkness during the oncoming nights, thinking about the boy they had left behind. About the one who could be lost or dead, about the one they could never and would never save. 

But that future was not their future. And in this world (and in this life), they still had a boy to save. 

A boy that, they hoped, would never be misguided. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's (finally) Part 2! I tried to make Vaike as realistic as possible in this chapter - the game never really touches on how he would truly handle grief of this magnitude, so I did my best to stick to my personal interpretation while staying faithful to canon. Also, I apologize if the end feels a little rushed - I've been trying for like the last two months to come up with a solid ending, but I really had nada. Hopefully, the lighthearted bit at the end feels genuine - I find in times of mourning myself, it's easy to try and distract yourself from the pain and suffering you feel. And I think Vaike and Robin are definitely the type of people who would use that method on one another. 
> 
> Anyway, hoped you guys like this. It was more for my own self-indulgence than anything, but if other Vaike/Robin shippers enjoyed it, then I call that an accomplishment, haha!!
> 
> Side Note: I personally think Vaike & Tharja have a relationship like this in a Vaike/Robin verse (double points if Tharja is married to someone Vaike really likes, like Stahl or Lon'qu) . Just an example of two people tolerating each other because (for SOME reason) important people in their lives actually like them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my response to the fact that there is no way Morgan can have a conversation with his father in The Future Past DLC. Like, I understand that would've been A LOT of work to create unique dialogue for every single possible father, but hell, I would've been a-okay with a generic convo! I'm just so in-love with Vaike being this super supportive and doting father, and I REALLY wanted to see how the Morgan of Future Past would've reacted to him. Though, as I wrote here, I don't think Grima ever told Morgan know who his father was (and I doubt it'd see Vaike as more than a "common hick")
> 
> The next part will deal with the aftermath of Vaike and Morgan's meeting, and the implications of what it means that Morgan has little to no inkling of who his father actually was.


End file.
